


Cope

by rebelwritesthings



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Art to Cope, Coping Mechanisms, Crutchie’s name is Charlie Morris, Friendship, Gambling, Gen, Healthy Coping Mechanisms, Smoking, This will eventually contain all the boys, but I’m just tagging them as they’re mentioned, crutchie needs a fucking hug, lying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-14 16:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16044314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelwritesthings/pseuds/rebelwritesthings
Summary: All the newsies have their own ways of coping, some more healthy than other.





	1. Jack

 

Jack Kelly drew.

 

He turned every thought that cluttered his mind into a picture. Every memory, worry, and hope were drawn on whatever scrap of paper Jack could get his hands on.

 

Sometimes he’d have real drawing paper, Miss Medda was a generous lady. Once he even had a sketchbook, but that was not the norm.

 

Normally Jack purchased a few more papes then he probably should have and kept what he didn’t sell, using it for art. Once Crutchie learned of what Jack was doing, any papers he couldn’t sell went to Jack too.

 

Speaking of Crutchie, the kid was a frequent subject of Jack’s sketches. All the newsies were. The drawings of the boys were the ones Jack spent the longest on, because he had to get every detail right.

 

Crutchie fast asleep out on their penthouse, his arm wrapped around the crutch instinctively.

 

Race playing poker, an ace up his sleeve and a cigar hanging out of his mouth.

 

Specs with a grin on his face, sitting outside in the sun watching some of the younger boys running around.

 

He had drawings of all the boys. They were his family, the reason he was alive, Jack immortalized them on paper to remind himself why he kept going, kept fighting.

 

Those were the drawings he did on the good days.

 

On the ones that were a bit worse than normal, he drew blue skies and clay houses.

 

Santa Fe.

 

His escape.

 

On the days where things were looking down, Jack drew Santa Fe to remind himself that he wasn’t stuck in the shithole that was New York forever. He could get out one day, if he just kept going.

 

Though sometimes Santa Fe couldn’t make him feel better.

 

Sometimes the days were worse because Jack remembered his past.

 

On those days he drew his parents.

 

Those days were few and far between and he wasn’t even sure if the drawings were right.

 

He wasn’t sure if he could even remember their faces right, but he still kept drawing.

 

On the worst days of all, Jack drew the Refuge.

 

Jack would draw the bunk rooms and the basement. Jack would draw Snyder standing over him, sneer on his face as he beat Jack.

 

The memories of it all weren’t going away and the nightmares weren’t getting any better, so Jack continued to do all he knew how to do to make himself feel better.

 

Jack Kelly drew.


	2. Crutchie

 Charlie Morris pretended.

 

With all his friends, no, his family always suffering, he couldn’t make them worry about him too.

 

He pretended a lot of things, but most of all Charlie pretended that Charlie Morris didn’t exist. He pretended that Crutchie was the only piece to the puzzle that made up his identity. He pretended that his past didn’t happen and he’d been Crutchie the newsboy forever.

 

Crutchie pretended that he didn’t have a family out there, one that had abandoned him to the streets.

 

It was easier that way and it was an easy thing to pretend. All Crutchie had to do was make himself forget.

 

Some things weren’t as simple to pretend.

 

It was hard, but Crutchie continuously pretended his leg never bothered him. On days he felt like he could barely move it and the pain was almost to much to bear, Crutchie would still throw on a smile and get out of bed. He’d force himself to get up and go to newsie square.

 

 

On those days Crutchie bought his normal amount of papes, but he didn’t sell them. He’d dump them the second he got away from the other boys. It would be a lot easier for Crutchie to just not buy any papes, but if he did that the boys would know something was wrong.

 

Of course that left the issue of money, so Crutchie got good at going a day or two without food. He had a few extra pennies saved up, just in case he really needed it. Those weren’t for his sake. They were for if the other boys found out something was wrong and made him take a day off, because Crutchie knew they’d give him money if they knew he was lacking.

 

Crutchie didn’t want to be a burden, so he became one hell of a liar and damn good at surviving. Sometimes Crutchie thought Jack knew that Crutchie wasn’t as strong as he let on, but Jack let him fake it.

 

Jack would sell with Crutchie and make sure the other boys didn’t give him a hard time, but he never made Crutchie be honest about his struggle.

 

Because that was how he survived.

 

Charlie Morris pretended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not as happy with this one, but I decided to publish it anyways. I’ll probably come back to it later and change it up. Race is next chapter.


	3. Race

Racetrack Higgins smoked. 

 

This wasn’t a surprise to anyone, Race was never seen without a cigar hanging out of his mouth. It was, however, a rarity to see Race’s cigar lit.

 

Cigars weren’t easy to come by. Race couldn’t afford them and the newsies didn’t steal unless completely necessary.

 

Of course, Race didn’t follow that rule. He stole cigars out of the pockets of customers and Jack used to scold him for it. Now there was an occasional look of disappointment, which Race grinned at Jack in reply to.

 

As a newsboy you didn’t have many luxuries, cigars were Race’s. Due to how difficult they were to get, Race almost never lit his cigar.

 

He only lit a cigar if he needed a distraction. When life got too difficult, due to the present or the past, Race lit his cigar.

 

It was a small relief. Sometimes too small. Sometimes things were worse and he needed bigger distractions. Sometimes he was desperate.

 

Jack didn’t like it when the boys gambled. He said it was a waste of their hard earned money and they’d regret it later. Jack was right, but that didn’t mean Race listened to him.

 

When he needed something stupid to do to forget his parents deaths or his time in the refuge, Race would go to a horse race and bet all his money or head down to Brooklyn, where newsies were less responsible with their money.

 

Spot Conlon’s opinions on gambling were far more positive than Jack’s. Knowing that Race rarely won a penny, Spot would let him hang in Brooklyn and play a game of poker or two with his boys. No one from Manhattan knew, of course. They would see it as a betrayal, Race hanging out on another terf, but Race needed it.

 

He needed the distraction of the frustration of losing his money, or the joy of winning a bit. He needed the recklessness of hanging in Brooklyn, where things were more dangerous and more stupid.

 

He knew it was wrong.

 

Racetrack Higgins gambled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t know whether to go with the obvious route of his smoking or go with gambling, so I included both. I’m not sure who to do next. I’m thinking Davey or Spot, what do you guys think?

**Author's Note:**

> I just rewatched Newsies, so I felt like writing a fic. I didn’t actually proofread this, so I hope it isn’t terrible. I’m thinking of doing a chapter about Crutchie next, because he’s my favourite!


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